


nobody cares if you're losing yourself (am I losing myself?)

by bennybentacles



Series: bad things happen bingo [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dave dies, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Description of War, Gun Violence, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Vietnam War, klaus just fucking lost it, uhm this is rough on my boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennybentacles/pseuds/bennybentacles
Summary: the war is selfish and cruel that did nothing but take and take and take away innocent lives andtoo bad, so badthat Dave is innocent and the war took him too//prompt filled: survivor's guilt
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Series: bad things happen bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913851
Kudos: 19
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	nobody cares if you're losing yourself (am I losing myself?)

**Author's Note:**

> so just a warning Klaus is in a really bad headspace in here and his thoughts are really dark so proceed with caution

blood was stuck to his hands, sticky and it stains everything it touches. his skin, Dave's skin. his own neck when he scrambled to tug off his dogtags and exchanged Dave's for his, just so he could have one last piece of his love for his own. he wailed in the middle of the gunfight, not caring if a bullet could strike him right between his ribs because his Dave, his love, his life was dead and no matter what happens after that day wouldn't even matter because _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ and he wouldn't return.

he had to pick up his gun once more when somebody fell from beside him, lil' Alex who was only eighteen and got shipped into this hellhole just a month ago, also dead and he can only stare in horror at the blood that is soaking his legs and the blood that already soaked his shirt when he hugged Dave, who is dead and who wouldn't return and look at him as if he hung the stars because _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_

he sobbed as he aimed towards the soldiers, not knowing which one of these assholes killed the love of his life but they all had to die. none of them deserves to live, not after Dave, not after they snatched away his only reason to live. they killed him when they killed Dave, and he's not going down alone. he would drag every single one of them with him, bury them with his dead heart, far away from his Dave who is dead, who wouldn't look at him as if he hung the stars 

he shot, each one of his bullets hitting somebody and he only felt more pain. he knows deep down Dave doesn't want this, doesn't want him to go on a killing spree to honor his name but _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ and he was never good at listening to the dead. that's why his father locked him up on the mausoleum for hours despite how much he begged to get out. _please, let me out, i don't want to be here, please, please please._

the love of his life was becoming colder and colder and colder in the middle of the heat of the fight and he can do nothing but shoot, kill everyone because he refused to stop until each and everyone of them goes down. he doesn't care if he might die in the process. wouldn't care if nobody would stand after the fight has long ceased and they would be a tangled mess of bloody bodies in the middle of the jungle, left to rot and mix in the foreign soil

tears blurred his vision when he had to swap his gun for Dave's, the same gun that Dave used to teach him how to shoot, his mouth smiling and and his hands warm because he was alive and now _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ , and Dave wouldn't ever look at him as if he hung the stars and isn't that tragic, how they snatched his heart away from him.

how dare they take away his only reason to live. how dare they dangle hope in front of him and make him chase like a goddamn dog only for them to take away the love of his life and now they expect him to continue living when they took his only reason to live

his lips trembled as every shot he makes rattle his whole body, his hands numb as he killed each and everyone in front of him, not caring if he hits an enemy or a comrade because Dave is dead and nobody deserves to live. not them, not any of them and not him. how can anyone wish to live when they took Dave away from him. they took away Dave who only wanted to go home, he was going to go home. they were going to go home, go back to Texas and live the rest of their lives together far away from everyone, go back to 2019 where their relationship wouldn't be frowned upon by his siblings. he would've followed Dave anywhere, he wanted to follow Dave to where he went but first he would have to kill everyone is this goddamn war. 

he knows he's fighting a war long lost when he landed in the middle of Vietnam in 1968 in the middle of the goddamn war, knew it from the book and the clips and the memorials yet he couldn't believe that he had to lose the love of his life, had to watch helpless as the war swallowed Dave whole and spat him out. he never would've imagined fighting a war, never imagined holding a gun and firing at nameless faces, hoping he'll shot through the heart just so that they wouldn't suffer, never imagined loving somebody in the middle of this hellhole and never imagined watching his lover choke on his blood as he takes his dying breath yet he he was, in the middle of the war firing a gun to the enemy line after Dave died in his arms

the enemies just kept coming. they don't stop coming, and he watched as they pulled corpses aside to a pile, adding dead bodies to their barrier as more soldiers entered the fray with guns held in their arms and he shoots and shoots and shoots and they came tumbling down but he knew that those bodies that goes down would just be added to the pile that shielded enemies from their bullets. as he said, a fight that was already lost because they wouldn't stop, wouldn't back down, wouldn't even bat an eyelash as they used their fallen soldiers as barriers. 

he can only mutter Dave's name, tears still falling from his eyes as he reloaded his gun, hoping that it wouldn't jam but his hands are trembling and he's not too sure if he's still doing this right, if he's still doing what Dave taught him but does it really matter if Dave is dead and he doesn't care if he lived or dies in this fight. wouldn't care if his name would be engraved in the memorials for people to see decades later

he's sure the fight wouldn't end until one of them are dead, whether they win this or the other side does. he knows ceasefire and retreat were long out of the question when their orders came days ago and they marched in to their deaths. he remembers reading about the same fight that he is fighting at the moment and he remembers the casualties it had cause. he knew, somewhere deep in his abused mind that this battle wouldn't end unless someone surrenders and he knew they wouldn't surrender, not today, not for the next few days and he's not sure he can lay next to his dead lover while he kills more people. he's not sure he could have one more look at Dave who looked so stiff besides him and who is cold to the touch in the middle of the scorching heat. 

he hoped whoever assigned this orders to them died horribly, hoped whoever signed his lover's fate died today, shot in the head in the middle of his comfortable office because he deserves a painful death after he sat down while he sent thousands of soldiers, some of them not even twenties, some of them too old and one of them the love of his life. sent them all to die, in the middle of the fucking jungle while he was out there sitting on his office, just like how his own father sat on his office while he sent his own kids to their suicide missions

the enemies fell back hours later and he can only watch numbly while he still shot, killed soldiers who turned their back and ran away for their lives, shot those people who killed Dave, who is still beside him cold because _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ because they killed him and Dave would never look at him like he hung the stars anymore. they took away the love of his life and they deserved to die

fresh tears leaked from his eyes as he dropped his gun to the the ground, let it bounce off the floor, who cares if it could've gone off and killed one of them? not him. he doesn't care if he dies because Dave is dead and he's cold and stiff and he just wants Dave to live. why did he have to fight up front. why did they have to fight up front, Dave should've stayed behind. 

his arms and legs trembled as he slowly pulled Dave, dragging him away from the front lines and he can only watch his steps as men beside him dragged off their fallen members, all of them heading back to their base, all of them carrying a corpse

it should've been him. why did Dave have to die. when he is just right besides him. why did the bullet have to hit Dave, his beautiful, brave Dave who looked at him like he hung the stars and who only wanted to go home and make a whole life with him. why did the war have to snatch Dave away from him. why did Dave even go in this war. he doesn't fit in this war. he is beautiful and pure and he didn't fit this ugly and wretched war who did nothing but take and take and take innocent lives and now it took Dave too. 

it should've been him, why didn't he die? he stopped caring if he lives or dies yet somehow he is still alive and dragging of the love of his life away from his dying place and back to the tents where he knows Dave would get bagged and shipped back to his family who never accepted him for what he is, who only peered down at his choices and spat out insults about his sexuality. those people doesn't deserve Dave, not after they had sent Dave into the war that killed him in the end. nobody deserved Dave, not even him who only made Dave cry because of his childhood and because of his addiction and his life at the streets.

it should've been him. why didn't he die? he can only sob as he hugged Dave one last time, his hands covered in blood and gunpowder. his eyes looked around the hundred of bagged bodies around them and he can only kiss Dave's forehead, his silent farewell as he stood up and left Dave behind because _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ and he knows that would be the last time he'll see the love of his life.

it should've been him. why didn't he die? he can only sob as he made his way into his cot, his hands trembling as he remembered how just days ago he and Dave sat on the same cot and made plans for their future because they were supposed to go home. so near. just a few more months and they could've gone home yet the war took Dave away and now he's just standing all alone in the middle of their barracks, in front of his cot with their memories flashing behind his eyes

it should've been him. why didn't he die? he choked on his sobs as he remembered the nights that they had where the whispered promises to each other, hands laced together as stars shone above them. he remembers the dreams that they had, shared with low voices ans they made the night theirs and he remembers their plans, thinks of what they could've had and what they could've done if the war didn't take Dave away and left him all alone, hallowed out. 

it should've been him. why didn't he die? with one last look through his tears. he yanked the briefcase that brought him in the middle of the war with nothing but his towel and the coat on his back, where he had the chance of meeting the most gorgeous man that he ever saw who accepted him for what he is, looked at him with nothing but love. he sat down on his cot and he can only cry as he remembers every single memories that he had in the middle of this shithole. it shouldn't be possible but he had more positive memories in the middle of the fucking war that stole the love of his life away from him than his time back home, where he did nothing butran away from everything. 

it should've been him. why didn't he die? blue light swallowed him as he went away with a pop, leaving everything from the past to go back to his shitty future. wishing damn well that he dies in the trip because he doesn't think he could still live without Dave, doesn't think he could carry on knowing the love of his life died in his arms while he can do nothing but sob because he's too late. he wouldn't be able to save Dave no matter what he does.

it should've been him. why didnt he die? he can only stare into the distance as he landed on a random bus back to his own timeline with his lover's blood dry on his hands. his hands stained with Dave's blood. who got taken away by the cruel war who only did nothing but to take and take and take innocent lives yet it didn't take him. tears dropped from his eyes as he slammed the goddamn briefcase which threw him in the middle of the war. wish that Dave is beside him and not dead decades ago and left nothing but the blood in his hands and the dogtags on his chest because he got left behind in time and _he's dead, he's dead, he's dead_ and Dave would never, ever look at him as if he hung the stars ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> i was supposed to give this prompt to ben and klaus but this happened and i think i cried a little bit while writing this.
> 
> title from You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison by My Chemical Romance 
> 
> yell at me on tumblr @bennybentacles


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